How to Heal a Broken Heart
by Silverwind24
Summary: Healing was the one thing that came easily to Callie, easier than talking, breathing, or the complications of feeling. The one thing she couldn't heal so easily was a broken heart.
1. Just Like Breathing

_**Title: How to Heal a Broken Heart**_

_Author: Silverwind24_

_Disclaimer: I don't anything so far except perhaps the character Callie and her family. I'm not worried about anyone wanting to use them really, but in case you have that slight inclination, just don't, ok? _

_A/N: Please review if you read. It makes me really happy, and want to write more! This is the first X-Men fanfic that I've written; I got the idea after watching X3 twice over the weekend. I haven't even read a whole lot of X-Men fanfiction so I'm sure this sort of story must get annoying, and I'm going to do everything in my power to ensure that my OC isn't and doesn't become a Mary Sue. _

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Chapter 1: Just Like Breathing

The view from the desk where Callie sat was fair enough; she could see the clouds passing quickly against the background of the bright blue sky, and if she stood on her toes and leaned against her desk, she could even see her sister and brother run from the school bus to the house, giggling and racing each other the whole way. Callie recognized that half of the reason that she did this was to be able to immediately intervene if either Sara or Josh became injured during their frantic fifty yard sprint, and after catching her breath once or twice, she heard the tell-tale sounds of her younger siblings' safe return home. Callie shook her head to clear her thoughts, and stretched her arms, which were cramped from sitting for so long at her desk. Her honey-colored hair was swept back in a careless pony-tail, and a few stubborn wisps fell onto her face, and she brushed them out of her eyes as she yawned. Homeschooling had its perks, such as being able to do her course work from her own room, wearing pajamas and no makeup, but she had to admit that sitting for so long in one position grew tiring after a while.

"Callie!" The sharp and demanding cry that distinctly belonged to her younger sister Sara shook Callie out of her reverie. Knowing that her sister's whirlwind arrival in her room was imminent, she swung open the door and began to head downstairs.

Just as Sara, who sat perched on the kitchen counter dressed in overalls with her hair clipped up with barrettes, was about to open her mouth again, she saw her older sister come around the corner. "There you are Callie!" She exclaimed with a smile that lit up her whole face. "Two things," she said, with a business-like manner that seemed beyond her eight years, making Callie almost laugh. "Number one, you have a letter in the mail, and number two, Josh's throat has been hurting him all day."

"Thanks, Sara," Callie replied, taking the envelope that held her letter from Sara's outstretched hand and tucking it underneath the waistband of her pants. "Is Mom home?" she asked quickly, glancing at the clock on the wall and then at the door.

"Not yet but hurry." Sara said insistently.

Callie's eyes turned to Josh, younger than Sara by nearly two years and Callie by more than eleven. He was sitting at the kitchen table frowning, one hand on his throat. Callie ran her hair through his curly brown hair. "What's the problem, little man?" she asked, crouching down to look him in the eye.

"My throat hurts real bad," he said quietly, pointing at his neck.

"I'm sorry, sweetie," Callie said with genuine sympathy. "Want me to get you some medicine to make it go away?"

"No." He said stubbornly, sticking out his lower lip.

"Why not, Josh, otherwise you won't feel any better," Callie asked, rubbing his shoulder with her hand.

"I don't want to take any medicine. It'll still be bad. I want you to fix it." His lip began to quiver.

"Josh, you know Mom would get mad," she replied warningly.

"I don't wanna take medicine and it hurts real bad!" he told her, louder and more insistently this time, his wide brown eyes filling with tears.

"Oh Josh, ok, ok, don't cry, bud," she told him, weakening at the sight of his tears. "Sit still, ok?" He nodded, and tipped his head back a little bit. Closing her eyes, Callie touched the tips of her fingers to Josh's throat for a moment, and a soft, white, and barely perceptible light engulfed his throat. "One more minute," she told him, and she repeated the motion to his ears, chest, and nose. Opening her eyes she smiled at her little brother, taking his hand in her own. "Feel better?"

He nodded. "Thanks Callie! What you do works so much better than gross medicine!" He exclaimed with enthusiasm, throwing his arms around her neck.

"What is it that you do that is so much better than medicine?"

Callie's heart stopped for a second at the sound of her mother's voice. She disentangled Josh's arms from around her neck gently and nudged him towards the back door. "You too, Sara," she whispered. Sara immediately hopped off the counter, took Josh by the hand, and led him towards the swing set that stood in the backyard.

"Josh's throat was sore, Mom," Callie said, looking at her mother, who stood in the door, shopping bags in hand.

"Callie," she said sharply. Callie looked back at her mother, whose face was a mixture of disappointment and anger. Gloria Walker was not an imposing woman by nature, but raising her three children alone after the departure of her husband had given an edge to the Callie's once-gentle mother. "What is it that you don't understand?" The older woman asked, disapproval in her voice, along with a trace of frustration.

"Mom, it's not bad! I helped Josh to feel better! That's not something bad!" Callie responded, knowing that she was digging herself into an impossible hole, but for a moment, she didn't even care.

"This isn't me trying to restrict you. This isn't me being the over-protective mother of a rebellious teenager," Gloria began, the sound of impending tears in her voice. "It's not right. It's not normal. Tell me, Callie, why don't you go to school?"

"Mom…" Callie replied, taking a step away from her mother, shaking her head as tears pricked her own eyes, looking at the hard wood floor. "I didn't do anything wrong."

"I cannot believe that we are having this discussion," Gloria began.

"It isn't a discussion, Mom, it's never been a discussion. It's you telling me that I can't help my little brother feel better by doing something that comes as natural to me as breathing comes to you," Callie told her, wondering where her strength was coming from, but still feeling the threat of tears clutching at her throat, making it difficult for her to speak with the strength and conviction that she felt burning inside of her.

"Everyone breathes. Only you do….. this!" her mother responded, shaking her arm at her. "I will not discuss this with you any longer. There will be no repeat performances of this little episode," she declared harshly, her eyes darkening.

Tears slipped down Callie's cheeks. "What if Josh or Sara were dying? What if you were dying? Would you stop me then," she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Gloria Walker stared back at her daughter blankly. "You've been disrespectful to me for long enough today, don't you think? You are my daughter, and this is my house. You will do as I say." She hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to end her tirade. She sighed, shaking her head sadly, the look in her eyes revealing that she wished this conversation didn't have to take place. "Go to your room, Callie."

Callie looked her mother in the eye as she turned to go up the stairs to her room, resigning to her temporary authority, but knowing in her heart that she was wrong. After climbing the stairs and walking down the hall to her room, she shut the door gently behind her and rested her forehead against the cool wood with her eyes closed. After thinking of nothing for several moments to clear her head, she remembered the letter she had yet to open. Sitting down on the edge of her bed she opened the letter hastily, searching for anything, even trivial, to distract her from her moment of frustration and despair. Her eyes scanned the words quickly, and she caught her breath in surprise. The envelope contained a letter and a brochure from Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. She read the letter quicker than she knew was possible, and her mouth fell open in shock and awe. She opened the brochure with shaking hands, gazing at the pictures of the beautiful campus, and of the students that lived there. When she finally tore her eyes away from the brochure in letter, there was a feeling in her heart that hadn't been there before. Something that Callie recognized gratefully, for she hadn't felt it in so long: something called hope.


	2. Saying Goodbye

**A/N: Thanks for all the reviews on the last chapter! I love reviews, and if you would leave one it would be great! Especially those of you that have put this story on your Story Alert... let me know why you did! This is going to get more exciting in later chapters, now I'm just trying to develop my character and set the scene. Thanks so much for reading and I hope you like this one too!**

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_Chapter 2: Saying Goodbye_

Dinner at the Walker house that night was quiet, with Josh and Sara looking crestfallen because they knew that their actions had resulted in a conflict between their sister and mother. The two younger children loved Callie single-mindedly, able to look past the fact that she was often moody and cranky, wouldn't always play with them, and constantly watched them very strictly when she babysat. They were still able to look past this and see a sister who loved them, and was gentle and fun at the same time. They were caught, as children often were, in the disagreement between the two adult figures in their lives, and it hurt them, because as much as they loved Callie, their devotion to their mother was different, and they knew that their mother had an authority that Callie, as a teenager, did not possess.

Josh did his best to pick at his macaroni and cheese, while Sara, ever the diplomat, attempted to bring peace to the family by telling of her latest playground escapades in an animated manner. Mrs. Walker watched her children, listening attentively to Sara and urging Josh to eat. Callie was silent, smiling at Sara's stories and unconsciously making sure that neither of them choked on their food, as she had become accustomed to doing.

Although Callie sat at the table, eating, watching, and listening, her mind was elsewhere, thinking of the letter from Xavier's School, as she mentally planned her course of action. She knew well enough that any discussion she attempted to have with her mother on the subject would not go over well. She knew she was different, she had known it for years, since the first time she realized that the kisses she used to assuage the scraped knees of her siblings did more than what they used to. Since then, the urge to stop others from feeling the pain of injury or sickness had grown stronger and stronger, and she discovered that she could do things that she could never have imagined. Her healing started with Sara and Josh, and ever since they were little they never made a trip to the doctor's office aside from regular physicals, and neither of them ever missed a day of school. In the early years of middle school, she started patrolling the playground for kids that had gotten hurt playing, an activity that did not go unnoticed for long. The school nurse, who appreciated Callie's unique ability but was unnerved by it nonetheless, suggested to her mother that genetic mutation might be the source of her inexplicable talent. This "suggestion" promptly caused Mrs. Walker to pitch a first class fit, and pull her daughter from the public school program and home school her. Thinking back on that chain of events, Callie realized that her mother must have known that the nurse was right, otherwise why would she be afraid to allow the world to see a daughter who she thought was perfectly normal. As Callie grew older and became accustomed to living apart from the rest of the world, she would occasionally turn on the news and watch stories about the mutant community, such as the dangers of mutants and the call for the Mutant Registration Act. Her mother would flip off the channel quickly, with only a sharp look at her daughter as an unspoken warning..

Callie was far from stupid. She had allowed herself to be naïve because it was easier, but deep down she always knew what she was. Her mother may have kept her away from the comments and criticisms of her peers, and she could change the channel when a program about mutants came on, but she couldn't stop Callie from knowing anything about mutants and what they were and what they could do. Just as she couldn't stop Callie from knowing that she was different and that she was meant to be that way, and there was nothing that could change that. When she thought about leaving the constraints of her family, her heart hurt as she thought of leaving Josh and Sara, and the confusion that they would feel if she abandoned them. They didn't need her to survive; their mother loved them and cared for them in every way possible. But Callie loved them as much as they loved her, and there was no way that leaving them wouldn't be seen as a betrayal. Still, when she thought about escaping the constraints that she had lived under for her whole life, and the promise of learning more about her power at Xavier's school she felt a thrill of exhilaration unlike anything she had felt before. As she sat there at the dinner table, Callie resolved that this would be the last dinner she would eat with her family; the last time she would look across the table and see her mother's concerned frown, or Josh's sweet smile. As much as this resolution hurt her and brought tears unwillingly to her eyes, at the same time it allowed hope to flood into her heart and strengthen her resolve.

As dinner ended Callie cleared the table and washed the dishes. Just as she was about to head up the stairs to her room, her mother stopped her. "Callie," she said, her voice quiet and almost apologetic.

"Mom?" she asked, halfway up the stairs.

"I'm sorry if I was harsh today," she told her daughter. Callie turned around and walked back down the stairs, hoping beyond hope that her mother would take back her previous sentiments and accept her; then maybe she wouldn't have to leave after all. She looked back at her expectantly, waiting. "There's been talk of a drug that can help people who aren't…. normal… live normal lives," Mrs. Walker began hesitantly.

"Do you mean The Cure? For mutants?" Callie asked, unable to keep the shock and horror out of her voice.

Something akin to anger flared up in Mrs. Walker's eyes for a moment, knowing that her daughter had delved into forbidden territory. Instead of exploding as she usually would, she proceeded with a calmness that contributed to Callie's surprise. "Yes, it is. I've made an appointment for you to receive this "cure" tomorrow afternoon when I get off from work. Sara and Josh both have play dates after school so they won't be here," she added, informing Callie of this decision more than asking for her permission to change Callie's genetic makeup, and her entire life.

Callie's first urge was to scream at her mother, and ask her why she would even dare to presume that she would allow this to happen to herself, and to tell her that she would never allow this to happen. Instead she was silent, waiting for the right words to come to her as she realized that her only decision was to run.

"You know that it's for your own good, don't you?" Mrs. Walker asked, sounding unsure herself.

Pausing, she looked back at her mother. "Don't worry about it, Mom," she told her with a smile before continuing to her room. It was only after she closed the door behind her that she allowed a tear to slip down her cheek.

Callie packed her bags that night after her siblings had gone to sleep and her mother had retreated to her room. She filled a duffel bag with clothes, and a smaller backpack with other things she supposed that she would need, and things she thought she couldn't live without. Her hands shook as she folded and packed t-shirts and jeans, and she knew that leaving her home, which she had barely left for her entire life, was crazy, but she couldn't shake the feeling that it was something she had to do.

After she had packed away everything that she could, she crawled into bed and lay there, staring at the ceiling. Thoughts flew through her mind, making sleep impossible as she contemplated the fact that this would probably be the last time she slept in her bed in the house where she had grown up. She realized, as she tossed and turned, finally resigning herself to the impossibility of sleep, that she really knew nothing beyond her home and her family. Her mother had kept her isolated from everything, and even all the reading and television viewing and web surfing could not keep her as fully immersed in the world as any normal teenager would be. Callie worried about a million things. What if she couldn't fit in at the school? What if she wasn't only a mutant, but a social freak as well? What if she couldn't make friends? What if her mutant power was useless in comparison to the gifts of the other students? She reassured herself that the letter from the school had somehow found its way to her because she was wanted there. How the school had known to send her a letter, she couldn't even begin to guess. Callie finally fell asleep, dreaming of learning more about her power and forming friendships with people who would understand her.

Morning came all too quickly, and Callie woke to the sun falling on her face through the window, and the weight of all that she had to do descending on her chest and making it almost hard to breathe. It was barely nine o'clock when she woke up, and after showering and dressing, she made the short trip to the bank to empty out her savings account. She rode there on her bike, shaking her head to herself. She was probably the only teenager in her rural New England town that got around by bicycle, but her town was small enough that it served its purpose well enough. She told the bank teller with a smile that she was emptying her account to buy a car, and she inwardly winced at the lie, but she knew that she would not be able to access the money that she had otherwise, and she didn't anticipate being a freeloader for her entire life either. While it was true that she didn't know much beyond her home and family, she prided herself in the small amount of independence that she had, and she wanted this to continue after she was taken in by Xavier's School as well.

Callie returned home to pick up her things, and call the number for a taxi to come and bring her to the train station. As she told the taxi service her address and destination, she wondered how she was forcing herself to do these things, and where her inner strength came from. She had never had any strong convictions before, or done anything rebellious besides using her skills to heal Josh and Sara when her mother had forbidden her to. And even that was something that was second nature, where it was easier to disobey than to comply. She wondered if she would retain this strength when she arrived in Westchester, New York.

Callie couldn't ignore the fact that her mother would be beside herself with worry, and that her siblings would miss her and not be able to understand that she could no longer live at home with them. She wrote her mother a letter, only saying that she couldn't keep pretending and lying to herself and to the rest of the world, and that she was going to a place where she could finally be herself. She urged her mother not to worry but she knew that would be impossible for her, or perhaps any mother of a teenager who ran away from home. Josh and Sara's letters told how much she loved them, and wish that she was able to stay, but told them that she had to go so she could learn how to help more people. Her heart constricted with guilt, because that altruistic motive was not the only reason why she was leaving. She hoped that they would understand someday, and that she wouldn't have to be gone for so long that she missed them growing up. Thinking about day to day life without the joys of her younger siblings was too hard for Callie to bear, so she put it out of her mind the moment that the thought occurred to her.

The honking of a horn outside alerted Callie that the taxi had arrived. She lugged her duffel and backpack down the stairs and to the car, and she told the driver in a choked voice that she needed to be taken to the train station. She sat in the backseat clutching her backpack to her chest, and the driver looked at her for a moment in the rearview mirror.

"You're not going for a weekend with the grandparents, are you kid?" he asked, furrowing his brows.

"No, sir. Is it that obvious?" she asked, sighing in resignation.

"Uh, yeah it is. You're shaking like you just saw a ghost. And you called a taxi in the middle of the day, and it looks like your parent's aren't home. To me, that's the sign of someone who's running away," he said, his eyes on Callie in the backseat more than they were on the road.

"It's not what you think it is," she told him, feeling the urge to defend herself. "It's not that I don't love my family. Or that I've done something wrong, because I haven't."

"Hey, I believe you, sweetie, anything you say," the driver replied with a hint of sarcasm.

"Maybe I am running away," she said softly, her face falling. "But it's for the best."

"I'm not gonna argue with you," he replied, turning the wheel to steer the car around a corner. "All I know is that a lot of kids run away looking for something better and they get sucked into things that are way worse than what they had to deal with at home. You seem like a nice girl. I don't want that to happen to you, that's all."

Callie felt a sudden rush of fear. What if Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters wasn't everything that it had said it was going to be? What if she left the safety of her home and found herself trapped within some sort of mutant experimentation facility? She shook her head. That couldn't be true… could it? She reassured herself with the fact that at least she realized how naïve and inexperienced she was, as if somehow that knowledge would protect her.

She felt the driver's eyes on her again as she stared out the window, lost in thought. "Hey, kid, you getting out or what?" The drive to the station had passed by quicker than she could have imagined. It would be so easy to just tell the driver that she had changed her mind and have him take her back home, where she could laugh at herself for even thinking of starting out on her own. Instead, she clenched her teeth and paid the driver, tipping him generously for his concern, and for adding a little realism to her outlook.

Callie lugged her bags into the station, feeling how small and alone she was as she read the train schedule. The station was much smaller than the one she supposed she would arrive at in New York, but she still had to work up the courage to purchase a one way ticket and board the train. She sat as still as she could in her seat, shifting around and fidgeting with nervousness. It was only after the train began to move quickly along the tracks that she realized the magnitude of her actions. Her old life was speeding away as quickly as the train was moving, and her new life was approaching with every mile of distance that she crossed. With each passing tree, rock, or hill, she realized that she was saying goodbye to it all, in the way that she hadn't been able to say goodbye to her family. "Goodbye," Callie whispered, as she watched her hometown fade into the distance. She was moving away from everything she had every known, but she knew, somehow, that she would not regret it.


	3. Carpe Diem

Chapter 3: Carpe Diem

Standing in the middle of the train station, far larger than the small local station she had begun her journey at, Callie felt smaller than she knew was possible. Still, she was guided by an inner strength she hadn't been aware of until she discovered her need for it. Finding a taxi wasn't hard, as there was a line of them outside the station waiting to take those who hadn't planned beyond their arrival at the station to their desired destinations.

With a wave of her arm, Callie caught the attention of a cab driver, and quickly climbed into the back seat. "Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, please, in Salem Center" she said, trying out how the words felt inside her mouth. The cab driver grunted in affirmation and began driving.

"I don't know what kind of a prep school this place is," the driver began, alarming Callie with his questioning tone. "All of the kids that I take there look more like runaways than students."

Callie was speechless. "I can pay you, if that's what you're worried about."

The driver laughed. "I'm not worrying about anything. Just telling you what I see. Cabbies see more than most people would realize."

"It must be interesting at least," she offered, unsure of how to respond.

"That's one word for it," he replied, and they sat in silence for the duration of the drive. Callie stared out the window, noticing that the town seemed much like her own. The taxi took her through the town, and along a smaller road out into the countryside. Her heart beat quicker with anticipation, and she couldn't help but be excited to see the school which looked so beautiful, welcoming, and ideal in the brochure. She wanted to meet Professor Xavier, who had communicated his gentleness and concern in a simple letter, which had spurred all of her decisions from that point onward. She strained her eyes to be able to see the large building that appeared in the distance more clearly, shaking her head in disbelief. As the taxi neared the building, she knew without a doubt that the enormous mansion that was slowly coming into view was Xavier's School.

She couldn't help but ask the driver, unable to keep her shock to herself. "Is that it? Is that the school?"

"That's the place. It is something else," he conceded, glancing at the girl in his mirror. The mansion was the largest and most magnificent building that Callie had ever seen. Ivy crept up the side, giving it an archaic look, and from what she could see from the windows of the cab, the grounds were even more breathtaking than the few pictures she had seen in the brochure. She sat in the car, speechless, trying to take everything in. "Well are you going to get out or are you just going to sit here all day?" the driver asked, bringing her back to reality. She laughed, and got out of the car, paying, tipping, and thanking the driver. It was only after the taxi started to drive away did Callie realize how alone she felt.

Not knowing what to do next, she turned towards the large front door that the taxi had dropped her off in front of. It occurred to her that she hadn't really thought very far beyond arriving at Xavier's School. She patted her back pocket with her hand to check and make sure that the letter from the school was still in her pocket and that it wasn't a dream that had brought her here. Someone thought that she belonged here. She wouldn't be intruding. A large brass door knocker caught her eye, and she marveled for a moment at how antique the school seemed. Callie had the feeling that there was more to this place than met the eye. She hesitated when she looked at the knocker, knowing that she had to bring herself to knock on the door and face the people who would be integral parts of her new future, but she knew at the same time that the reality of something never quite lives up to the fantasy. What else was there to do? A Latin phrase came to her mind, and she gritted her teeth, murmured "Carpe diem," and knocked loudly on the imposing wooden door. She waited for a few breathless seconds, looking around, finally noticing several security cameras located above the door. There was more to the school than anyone could see, she was sure of that.

The door creaked and then swung open, and Callie found herself face to face with the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. The woman was dressed in a long, elegant skirt with a matching fitted top with flowing sleeves that looked to be made of the finest silk possible. Her dark skin was flawless and glowing, contrasting with the whiteness of her hair. She looked at Callie with wide brown eyes, and smiled with such kindness that the girl was put immediately at ease. "Hello there," she said easily, opening the door wider and allowing Callie to come in. "Can I help you?" She looked over the young girl, seeing her bags and sensing her nervousness even before she spoke.

"Yes, I think you can," Callie replied, already feeling insignificant in comparison to this woman who was more like a goddess than a human. She didn't continue, and the woman looked back at her, but not expectantly.

"Why don't you come into the parlor and sit down. We can talk there without being disturbed for the moment," she offered, taking a step towards a closed door. Callie looked down the hallway, her eyes passing over hardwood floors and oriental rugs, and paintings that hung on the wood paneled walls. She nodded, and followed the woman into the room.

The parlor was small and comfortable, and Callie sat down on a couch, while the woman chose an arm chair near to where Callie sat. She looked at the woman, unsure of how to begin. "What is it that has brought you here?" the woman asked, not prying, merely prompting, as if she knew that Callie's story would come pouring out the moment that she began speaking.

"My name is Callie Walker. I'm a mutant… and I have no where else to go," she began, a hint of desperation in her voice.

"You have come to the right place, Callie. I'm Ororo Munroe, though the students and teachers call me Storm." She smiled, waiting for Callie to continue.

"I've always known that I was different, you see. But my mother wouldn't accept it, wouldn't hear of it, and wouldn't allow me to use my power. She pulled me out of school in sixth grade; I've been homeschooled ever since then. She wanted to deny that there was anything about me that was different, but she alienated me from everyone else because she didn't know how to deal with it. I guess I can't really blame her," she said, suddenly feeling the need to defend her mother, and prove to Storm that she meant well. "She really did love me. She told me last night that she made an appointment for me to receive the Cure today, which I guess is her ultimate concession that I am and always have been a mutant. She wanted to ensure that I wouldn't always be one." Storm's jaw dropped as Callie told how her mother was going to force her to be "cured" of her mutant powers.

"Mutation isn't a disease, it's a gift," Storm murmured, and Callie had the feeling that she repeated this conviction to herself often. She looked up at the girl, her eyes shining. "Why didn't you go along with what your mother wanted?"

"Because this is who I am. I've always known it, and I don't want to change it. I can use my power to help people, but she never saw it as that," she said sadly.

"Oh I'm sorry, I don't even know what your mutation is," Storm said, shaking her head to herself.

"My mutation is healing. I can heal anyone of just about anything, I think," Callie told Storm almost shyly, feeling as if she were bragging just by telling the woman what she was capable of.

"How do you do this?" Storm asked, and Callie understood what she meant.

"I just touch them and concentrate. I've been doing it since I was little, first starting with my younger sister and brother. They've never been sick a day in their lives," she added, proud of what she had been able to do.

"That's just… amazing," Storm breathed. "What about cancer… terminal illnesses… how did you find out that you could heal people of those sorts of afflictions?" Storm leaned forward in her chair, engrossed in what the girl was saying.

"Once, I was at a church social with my mom and my siblings when I was younger. There was a woman who we were all supposed to pray for because she had terminal cancer. I went up to her and hugged her… I was young enough that it was ok for me to do. She patted me on the head and I went on my way. My mom told me later to pray in thanksgiving for her healing. I'm not saying that God isn't capable of doing that sort of a thing, but I know it was me that healed her because I felt it happen." Callie realized that she was speaking about herself in a completely detached manner, and she reasoned that it was the only way for her to talk about her childhood and her family without falling apart.

"That's amazing," Storm breathed. "Now, I have to ask, what made you come here? How did you find out about this place?"

"I got a letter in the mail from Professor Xavier," Callie began, but she stopped when she saw a dark shadow pass over Storm's face. She looked at the older woman with concern, and Storm finally blinked a few times to clear her vision and smiled at Callie, letting a nervous laugh escape her mouth.

"I'm sorry," Storm said, wiping her eye with her hand. "It's just that Professor Xavier passed away very recently, and it's been very hard on all of us here that knew and loved him."

Callie stared back at her in disbelief. "I just got this letter in the mail yesterday, and it was signed by him."

Storm's brow furrowed in confusion, but she shook her head. "You must have been one of the last mutants that he had contacted before his passing. That says something about the strength of your power. There are many young mutants that never even hear of this place. I would say that you're older than most of our students here though."

"I'm almost eighteen," Callie replied, still shocked at the news of Xavier's death. She hadn't known him, but there was something about the letter he had written that made her want to meet him.

Storm sighed. "I can't guess the Professor's motives. He was always one step ahead of all of us. It's hard, now that he's gone," she added softly. She forced a smile and continued. "You are more than welcome here, Callie. There are several students who are your age, and I know that you will fit in perfectly with them. I'm unsure of how familiar you are with the school, but we teach our students the normal subjects that they would learn in the average public or private school, as well as how to best use their power. Right now we're in a bit of a tough time without the Professor, and the loss of several of our teachers, but our doors are always open. I'm so glad that you came to us," Storm told her, and Callie believed every word that the woman said. "Come with me, I'll find you a room and a place for you to put your things. You can start in class tomorrow, you seem like a bright girl, and I'm sure you'll do just fine. I'll introduce you to the students at dinner, and we'll take it from there." Storm rose, and Callie did the same.

"Shall we?" With that, Callie followed Storm out of the parlor and up the stairs to her new room, one roadblock in the start of her new life already out of the way.

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**Thanks again, reviewers! Let me know what you thought! More characters are going to be introduced very soon, hang in there!**


	4. Home Away From Home

_A/N: Ah, how I appreciate reviews! Thanks so much for letting me know what you think of my OC; if she's unlikeable and unrealistic, then the story is pretty much doomed. I think that there are a lot of stories floating around out there that seem slightly similar to mine, so I'm going to try to switch things up and make it different. I'm having a lot of fun writing it, and I hope that you're enjoying reading it as well. Please review and let me know what you think!_

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**Chapter 4: Home Away From Home**

As Callie unpacked her things, she was amazed by the comfortable room she had been given. The room was small but cozy, with a generously sized bed, a chest of drawers to store her clothes, a closet, and a desk with a mirror hanging over it. Storm had explained to her that while the younger students shared rooms, the older ones were permitted to have their own as a privilege of their age and alleged maturity. Callie appreciated her privacy, and she already felt much more at ease at the school. She sang a little to herself as she refolded the clothes that had gotten wrinkled in her duffel bag, and as she set up a picture of Sara and Josh on her desk, smiling as she thought of them to distract herself from tears. All of her things in place, she lay down on her bed for a moment to rest. She wondered if the other students would like her, or if they were already too involved in the tight-knit friendships that she imagined they must have to make room for someone else. Callie had never been insecure or nervous about much of anything, but she wanted so desperately to make friends and fit in at the school that she couldn't help but feel nervous. Just as her thoughts were becoming muddled with the approach of sleep, she was startled by the gasp of a female voice.

"Oh my goodness!" Callie shot up in her bed and stared at the girl that had somehow appeared in her room. The girls stared at each other with equal surprise. "I'm so sorry!" The girl exclaimed. "I thought this room was empty so I was just cutting through to Rogue's room!"

"Oh… that's alright," Callie stammered, trying to recover from her shock. "I'm new, I just got here this afternoon."

"That explains it," the girl said with a smile. She ran a hand through her chestnut brown hair and then extended it to Callie. "My name's Kitty. I can walk through walls, if that clears things up a little bit."

Callie smiled back at her, and shook her hand. "My name's Callie, it's very nice to meet you, even if I wasn't expecting it."

Kitty laughed at Callie's comment and asked if she wanted to talk for a little bit. Kitty asked her with genuine interest about her mutation, and seemed as impressed as Storm did about the nature of her gift.

"I don't see what's so special, I mean, your mutation is incredible too," Callie confessed.

"Oh, it's interesting, I'll give you that. You just have so much potential to help others, while my mutation is somewhat of a novelty," Kitty explained, shrugging.

"I think it's great. I've never known any other mutants, my mother was dead-set against me being one. Not that she had much of a choice!" Callie said.

"Parents," Kitty stated knowingly, and Callie laughed again. "Hey, it's almost time for dinner. We usually eat it together, all of the students and well, the teachers that we have left. Come down with me and I'll introduce you to Bobby, Rogue, and Peter."

"That would be great!" Callie consented, and she followed Kitty out of her room and down the hallway. Kitty banged on the door next to Callie's room, and they heard muffled laughter coming from inside the room.

"Rogue and Bobby! You two get out here now or I'm coming in!" Kitty yelled good-naturedly through the door, poking her hand through the wood to tease them. In an instant the door swung open, and Callie was again face to face with two more students. Callie instantly recognized they were a couple from the way they looked at her and stood in proximity to one another, and she smiled at the thought of a young and normal couple at the school. They regarded Callie for a moment, and then the boy turned to Kitty.

"New student?" Kitty nodded, and he stuck out his hand. "I'm Bobby Drake, nice to meet you!" he said welcomingly, and Callie took his hand with a smile.

"I'm Callie Walker, nice to meet you too."

"I'm Rogue," the girl said after Bobby had pulled back his hand, and she took Callie's hand in her own with surprising gentleness.

"Nice to meet you too, Rogue," Callie replied.

"What's your power, if I may ask?" Rogue inquired, and Callie heard the hint of a Southern twang in her voice, making her think that the girl had come a long way to get to New York.

"Healing," she said simply and they nodded, their faces revealing that they were genuinely interested in her.

"Sweet," Bobby commented. "You'll have to tell us more about it at dinner, because I'm starved!"

The rest of the group affirmed Bobby's statement and they began to head downstairs. Bobby and Rogue talked to each other as they descended the staircase, and Kitty fell back in step with Callie, and made a kissing face at her, nodding her head towards the couple with a grin.

"You've yet to meet Peter," Kitty told Callie. "I think he was training with some of the older students this afternoon. He's a great guy too. Maybe Warren will be at dinner for once." Callie could tell by the way Kitty said his name, that there was something about this Warren person. She raised her eyebrows in question and Kitty laughed. "He's something else. He's older than us by a few years, and he's still very quiet. His father was the one that invented the Cure," she added in a hushed tone.

"Warren Worthington?" Callie asked with surprise.

"You have been doing your research," Kitty replied. "And- I'm not gonna lie, Callie, he's a total hottie." Callie laughed at Kitty's off-the-wall comment, but she was intrigued. "Seems to me that most mutants are undeniably attractive," she added lightly with a flip of her hair and the two girls laughed again as they turned the corner to the kitchen. Callie was glad that Kitty had waltzed into her room with her confidence and happiness; she felt much more comfortable with a friend at her side already, and she was sure that Kitty was glad to not be the permanent third-wheel in Rogue and Bobby's relationship.

As the group entered the dining room, Callie tried to take in her surroundings while still remaining in step with Kitty. There was one large dining table that could accommodate all of the students and teachers, and she saw that the students were interacting with each other, and she realized why the school kept this practice of a family-style dinner. She followed Kitty to the counter, where she picked up a plate and some utensils, and then piled some spaghetti on to her plate. As they approached the table, Kitty gestured for her to sit between her and a bulky, but still handsome young man. Callie smiled at him, and he immediately stood up to shake her hand.

"Peter Rasputin," he said in a deep voice, and Callie had to tilt her head back to look him in the eye as he rose to his full height.

"Callie Walker," she replied as her hand was swallowed inside his.

As if he could read her thoughts, Peter laughed. "My code name's Colossus. I bet you can guess why." Callie laughed in reply and told Peter that she was very glad to meet him. She sat down between Peter and Kitty, and looked around the table, seeing younger students mingling with the older ones. She realized that the students she had met so far were those closest to her age, and she was almost glad to not be overwhelmed with an abundance of faces and names. The student body at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters was much smaller than that of any other boarding school, Callie was sure of that, and it kept the atmosphere more casual, which she instantly liked.

"Is anyone going to introduce me?" a voice piped up from the other side of Peter. Callie leaned back in her chair and saw a pretty Asian girl looking at her attentively.

"Sorry, I didn't even see you there!" Callie explained.

"Yeah, who really could see with this big lug in the way," the girl replied, giving Peter a shove. He couldn't protest, as he was chewing a mouthful of spaghetti, so instead he brandished his fork at her warningly. She pointedly ignored him, making Callie smile. "They call me Jubilee," she said. Callie introduced herself, and she was glad to have made another acquaintance so quickly and easily. She already felt much more at home at the school, and she realized thankfully that the food wasn't half bad either. The school truly was a home away from home.

Dinner passed quickly and noisily, and Callie was easily incorporated into the dinner table conversation of the older teenagers, and was also able to observe the other students. Storm acknowledged her, and commanded a momentary lull in conversation to introduce the mansion's residents to the newest student. She smiled shyly at the interested stares of the students, and she told them that she looked forward to meeting all of them- if only they would be forgiving if she had a hard time learning their names. The younger children laughed, and despite the age difference, Callie was reminded of her younger siblings, and how making them laugh always felt so good.

Towards the end of dinner she noticed a young man enter the room from the back door, fill a plate with spaghetti, and walk out, seemingly unnoticed by anyone else. He looked down as he walked, and Callie found herself wanting to catch his eye. She watched him leave, and saw him walk past the window, and go to eat his dinner alone on a bench outside.

"Ow!" Callie exclaimed as Kitty elbowed her in the ribs.

"Shhh- geez, I didn't elbow you that hard," she whispered back. "That was him."

"That was Warren?"

"Of course, who else? I told you he was gorgeous."

"I couldn't even really see him," Callie admitted. "He was staring at the ground the whole time."

"That's how he always is. Probably the reason I think he's so good looking is that I've never really been very close to him, or even had a conversation with him. I used to think Peter was good looking too until I got to know him," she added, with more volume.

"What is it with the constant burns tonight?" Peter complained righteously, picking up his empty plate and pushing out his chair. He smiled to take the sting out of his words, and he put his glass and nearly spotless plate in the dishwasher. As soon as Peter had gotten up, Rogue and Bobby did the same, followed by Kitty, Jubilee, and Callie.

"Come on, Callie, we usually all play a game of pool after dinner, and it would be fun if you came too," Bobby suggested to her as she imitated the others in putting her plate, glass, and utensils away.

"I don't know, I never really learned how to play pool," she said, with slight hesitation.

"Then there's nothing like a good game of team Cutthroat to teach you," Jubilee said, grabbing her wrist and leading her towards the Game room.

"Ah, what the heck?" Callie consented, allowing herself to be dragged off with the group. As Jubilee began to ask her curiously about where she was from and the nature of her powers, she glanced over her shoulder and out the window, as she tried to pinpoint what it was about the young man named Warren Worthington that reminded her so much of something that was broken and desperately needed to be fixed.


	5. A Place to Belong

Chapter 5: A Place to Belong

Callie lay in her bed that night, exhausted from the day's events. She couldn't believe that she had mustered up the courage to leave her home and come to this place, and that once she arrived here she found herself so welcome, and actually having fun with people her own age. She felt a pang of homesickness, not for the fact that her mother was going to force her to be Cured, but for all of the love that her mother, Sara, and Josh had for her. She knew that they must be worrying, and that there was nothing she could do to assure them that she was ok, and happier than she had been in so long.

To stop herself from feeling that inevitable sadness, Callie thought back on all of the people she had met. Kitty was undeniably the closest friend she had made so far; she was so outgoing that it was impossible not to like her. She was very glad that the girl had introduced her to her friends so quickly, and she had instantly liked Rogue and Bobby as well. Both of them had taken the time to get to know her that night, and though they were a couple their affection wasn't excessive, and she liked that about them. Peter was charming and funny as well, and Jubilee kept them laughing all night with her jokes. Turning over under the covers in satisfaction, Callie hoped that the next day would be as rewarding, and she gradually slipped into sleep.

Waking up the next morning, Callie was momentarily confused as she wondered why she wasn't in her own bed at home. The memories of the previous day came flooding back to her as she climbed out of bed and began to get ready for the day. The girls had shown her where she could find the bathroom to take a shower the night before, and she wandered down the hall in her bathrobe in the direction of the bathroom. She showered quickly, towel-dried her hair, and put on a pair of jeans and t-shirt. Returning to her room, she saw that a few notebooks and pens had been slipped under her door, with a note on top of them. The note was from Storm, and it told her to go to one of the classrooms on the first floor of the mansion for her first English class. Since she was homeschooled and had never followed a strict curriculum, but had a wide breadth of knowledge, Storm assumed that Callie would be able to catch on and not fall behind in any of her classes.

English had always been one of Callie's favorite subjects, so she gave it a lot of attention as she studied at home, while she neglected Biology more than she thought was possible. She hoped that she would enjoy the class, as she hadn't been in a classroom environment since she was younger, and was used to lying underneath the shady cover of trees in her backyard to digest her latest literary endeavor, as opposed to the crowded yet comfortable room filled with students that she wandered into.

Stumbling through the door and dropping her notebook with a distinct thump seemed inevitable, and caused more than a few heads to turn. She smiled sheepishly, feeling herself turn red. She was relieved to catch Jubilee's eye, and the girl grinned brightly, and waved her over to an empty seat on her right. The pre-class conversation returned to the room as Callie sank into the chair beside her new friend.

"A decent entrance, I'd give it at least a six," Jubilee said, gesturing with her hand that Callie's interruption was only sub-par.

"What did you expect, my mutation isn't a showy one," Callie replied, still breathing slightly quickly from the rush of the previous few minutes.

"Some people would kill for that," Jubilee informed her gently, and Callie's eyes widened as she realized how callous her comment sounded.

"I didn't mean that," she began before the other girl cut her off.

"Don't sweat it, I know. Besides, my mutation isn't exactly apparent either," she told Callie, raising a hand and causing sparks to crackle and fly off them. "I've got mine under control."

They exchanged smiles, and Callie began to arrange her notebook and pens on her desk. "What are we reading anyway?" she asked.

"How would I know?" Jubilee quipped back. When Callie looked surprised, she informed her, "I'm a little notorious about not doing my work on time. I'll get it done though. But not until it has to be." Callie smiled and went back to fiddling with her pens. "And you really are a gullible one! We're reading Pride and Prejudice. Austen, you know."

Callie laughed at her own ridiculousness. "That's not a bad read. A little dry in the beginning but once you get into it-"

Jubilee cut her off. "Great, and you're a literary connoisseur too!" She laughed to soften her remark. "You'll like the class. It's one that Storm teaches, and even with all the younger kids here, it's still pretty interesting. Oh, here we go now."

Storm walked in the back door and took her place at the front of the room, smiling in her gentle, gracious way. Callie straightened in her seat a little bit and prepared to pay careful attention to the day's lesson.

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The rest of the day went by quickly, with English class leading into European History, which was taught by Professor Kurt Wagner, who Callie found endearing, if eccentric. Political Science was taught by Dr. Hank McCoy, whose booming voice and commanding presence would have intimidated Callie if his eyes had not been so kind. Her last class of the day was Ethics, and she was glad to find that all of her new friends were in the same class as well. They walked there together after grabbing a late lunch in the kitchen, and she fell in step beside Peter as Jubilee and Kitty got caught up in a conversation. 

"Who teaches Ethics?" Callie asked Pete, her curiosity stopping her from waiting the thirty seconds it would have taken her to find out upon entering the class room.

Pete's face fell suddenly at her question. "Professor Xavier used to teach it. He taught so many courses here before he died," Pete said, and Callie felt a pain of remorse, first for hurting Peter with the memory, and then regret that she would never meet this man who had changed her life without even meeting her. To her surprise, the young man suddenly smiled. "As for who teaches it now, well you'll find that out for yourself."

Callie sat down between Pete and Kitty this time, Jubilee said that it was to keep them from whispering too much during class, and Callie wondered if that statement was loaded with something else, such as a rivalry between two close friends. As they waited for the class to start, Kitty attempted to summarize the course thus far in two minutes for Callie, who was beginning to wonder how she would ever catch up on her coursework, or even if she was expected to.

Just as the bell rang, a man swaggered (that was the only word for it) into the room, and loudly dropped a collection of keys onto the large wooden desk at the front of the room. He shrugged off his leather jacket and threw it over the back of his chair, before he slumped into it. Callie recognized him from dinner the night before, and she couldn't help but smile as he winked at Rogue, making her laugh, and Bobby frown.

"That's Logan," Kitty whispered, leaning towards Callie. "He's one of the X-Men too, probably the best that we have. As a professor though," she trailed off.

"Hey kids, how we doing today?" He asked, stretching his limbs in an almost cat-like manner.

The class, smaller than any that Callie had attended, murmured individual replies, and Bobby's clear and defiant "Fine," rang out loudly, making the whole room laugh.

"Glad to hear it," Logan responded gruffly. "Hey, who's the new kid?" He asked, gesturing at Callie with an unlit cigar that he held in his hand.

"My name's Callie, sir," she told him.

"Sir? I like you already, kid. Don't let those others influence you too much, I'm the best damn professor this school has." He paused for a beat before laughing loud and long, which the students couldn't help but join in on.

"Anyway, let's get on with it. Whip out that Aristotle book if you have it. If you don't , not my problem. This class is called Ethics and so is the book. If you can put two and two together, reading it seems like a pretty good idea. Got it? Good? Now read through book two for tomorrow, and we can… discuss it. Now get out of here."

The students leapt to their feet, as if they had expected the class to end as quickly as it had started. Callie couldn't help but be confused, and remained sitting when the other students were halfway out the door. Pete pulled her chair away from the desk while she was still sitting in it, making the onlookers laugh at her stunned protests.

"That's it? We can just leave now?" Callie asked, gathering her things and following the group towards the door and into the hall.

"Logan's amazing, but an Ethics, teacher…. Not so much," Rogue explained as they walked down the hallway as a group.

"Amazing?" Bobby muttered, and Rogue squeezed his hand, smiling.

"No one can measure up to Professor Xavier, so Logan doesn't even try, I think," Kitty said, more rationally.

"Who the heck cares?" Jubilee exclaimed. "We can sparknote the book and breeze through whatever paper he figures out that he has to assign us!" Her comment provoked a laugh from the students, lightening the tension of their criticism of the professor.

The group gradually gravitated outside, where the clear, warm spring weather had attracted many students to study, relax, and play on the grass. A game of ultimate Frisbee was in the works, and the older teenagers sprawled out underneath a tree that stood out among the other trees on the campus for its obvious age and size. Rogue studied while Bobby stroked her hair, and Kitty immersed herself in a book while Jubilee and Pete argued over Bioethics. Callie sat towards the outside of the group, where it became quite apparent to her that as friendly and welcoming as her new friends were, she had only arrived at the mansion the day before, while they had been living there for years. They knew each other inside and out, and were fiercely loyal to one another, in a way that usually belonged only in families.

Callie mentally berated herself for feeling as if she didn't belong, because she knew that it was ridiculous. She belonged at the mansion more than she belonged anywhere else, and she knew that her sense of belonging would only increase after she started to learn more about her powers from Storm's studies, and the efforts of the other older mutants. She thought about Storm, running the school almost completely on her own, and she remembered the little that she had learned from the students about the deaths of their other mentors, and how hard that must be for them. She knew too well that probably the second to last thing on Storm's mind was helping a girl whose powers weren't dangerous or hard to control, but Callie didn't mind. She was thankful to be some place where she almost fit in, and she knew that in time, it would seem like she had never been anywhere else. For now, she sat cross-legged on the grass, her book open on her lap. She occasionally looked over to observe the antics of her new friends.

Her attention was caught by someone walking across the lawn in a long coat, which seemed strange for the temperature and sunny weather. At a second glance, she realized that it was Warren, who Kitty had joked about, and who she had been intrigued by. She noticed the way that he walked, with his shoulders hunched forward slightly, as if he were carrying some burden that was too much for him to bear. The sun shone off his blonde hair, making it seem almost silver, and she wondered where he was going, and why he always seemed to be alone. The thought occurred to her that maybe he too felt as she felt, like he didn't belong in the only place it was possible for him to belong. Callie realized that she didn't even know what his mutation was, and reasoned that it had something to do with the long coat. Warren was different from her though, she decided, because she was doing her best to try to forge friendships and make a place for herself, while he was still alone. It might be wrong to judge him, she thought to herself, in fact, it probably was. But how would he begin to create bridges between himself and the other mutants if he didn't reach out to them? He was intimidating, from his appearance, to his age, and aloofness. Maybe, she thought, he needed someone to reach out to him.

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_Any thoughts? I need reviews, like a lot. I'm sorry for the short length and long time it took me to get this one up. I kind of hit a little speed bump in the plotline, but hopefully things will pick up, especially if I have fuel for the fire (ie. reviews). Thanks so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed it!_


	6. Sweet Dreams

_A/N: Long time no update, I know, and I'm sorry. I hope people are still interested in reading, and I'll try to keep writing! Please review and help me out with ideas!_

Chapter 6: Sweet Dreams

Callie, Kitty, and Jubilee sat clustered in one of the common rooms, books spread around them. Dinner had ended hours ago, and the girls had met afterwards to help Callie catch up on the classes that she had jumped into that day. Kitty loved History and was able to teach Callie a few tricks for remembering the numerous names and dates that they were required to learn for their European History class, while Jubilee eagerly admitted to her fascination with politics, especially those dealing with mutant rights. Callie ended up helping both of them with English, as she had spent the most time studying it when she worked on her own at home. The night was effective, though laughter and conversation occasionally distracted the girls from their immediate tasks. As the night wore on, less and less attention was spent on their coursework. Jubilee lay on her stomach on a couch, her book open in front of her. Kitty rested her feet on a coffee table with her notebook in her lap, and Callie sat cross-legged on the floor, using the short table as a desk. During a pause in conversation, Jubilee rolled on to her back.

"I don't want to sound like a quitter, but I'm not retaining anything anymore," she said with a sigh.

"I'm about ready to call it a night too," Kitty agreed, glancing at the clock. It was almost ten o'clock at night, and the older students followed a curfew requiring them to be in their rooms by midnight, while the younger children had to be in their rooms by ten.

"I think I'll stay here for a while longer," Callie said, stretching out her legs. "Thanks so much for your help. Now I realize how behind I really am!" Kitty and Jubilee laughed.

"I think you're in better shape than quite a few kids in our classes," Kitty remarked, getting to her feet and gathering up her books. Jubilee did the same, and after the girls warned Callie not to stay up too late, they headed upstairs to their respective rooms.

Alone in the common room, Callie sighed and allowed herself to flop back on the rug she was sitting on, staring up at the ceiling, and wondering how something like the ceiling could be so ornate. As far as Callie was concerned, the ceiling was only looked at if one was lying on the ground with nothing else to look at, but it made her appreciate the antique beauty of the mansion, and almost laugh aloud at her thought pattern. The classes she had attended weren't as difficult as she had worried that they would be, and with the help of Kitty and Jubilee, who were each brilliant in their own ways, she knew that she would do fine. However, no amount of cramming and studying would help her in her meeting with Professor Storm tomorrow. Briefly catching Callie in the hallway before dinner, the woman had told her that she wanted to meet with her to evaluate the range of her powers. She didn't even know that her powers could have a range, or limitations, or strengths and weaknesses. She became suddenly concerned that her mutation wouldn't be up to the standard that Storm expected them to be. Sitting up and shaking her head, she realized how ridiculous her fears were. She wished she could relax and accept the things that were happening to her, but she couldn't. Inexplicably, she felt cold, and wrapped her arms around her elbows, her hands reaching up to her shoulders.

The creaking of the door startled Callie out of her moment of self-pity, and she couldn't help but let out a squeak of surprise at the sudden sound. She instantly wondered who had wandered into the common room at such a late hour, and what he or she must think of her, curled up into a tight ball on the floor.

"Hello?" she said, tentatively, craning her neck to see over the couch.

"Um, hi."

Even without seeing who the speaker was, Callie knew his voice, despite the fact that she had never spoken to him, or heard him speak before. She knew that it was Warren from his listless and apathetic tone, which she had read instantly in the very way that he moved. Wordlessly, she climbed up onto the couch and knelt there, resting her elbows on its back, and looked at him.

"You surprised me a little bit," she said, not knowing what to say to break the silence as he stood there looking back at her, his expression unreadable.

"I didn't mean to," he replied, almost apologetic, but not quite. "No one's usually in this room this late at night." She saw that instead of his usual long coat he was wearing a flannel shirt, open over a white t-shirt, and her eyes were drawn to the bottom of the shirt, where two blurry white shapes fell towards the floor. Her eyes met his again, too quickly, and the look on his face was instantly one of embarrassment, and she didn't understand why. Her mouth opened, but she didn't know what to say to him, besides the urge to apologize for the dark look that fell over his face.

Callie didn't need to speak, because Warren did. "I don't know you," he admitted, but not as if it were something that he regretted.

"I haven't even been here two days yet," she offered, as if she needed to give him an explanation. "My name is Callie."

"Warren," he said, as if his name, two syllables, pronounced flatly, were all that she was going to get from him. "You're a mutant?" he asked, shifting uneasily from one foot to the other.

"Pretty much," Callie replied, their short and choppy conversation making her feel as nervous as Warren appeared to be as he fidgeted and played with the buttons of his shirt. "You are too?"

"See for yourself," he said, gesturing below the end of his shirt, drawing Callie's attention to the one place she was trying not to look at. Not that it was hard to keep her eyes on his face, which told her more about him then his few, measured words.

"I can't really see…" she began hesitantly, unsure of what she should say, and not wanting Warren to expose himself to her in a way that didn't seem right, considering that they had just formally met. Just as she held up her hand to stop him, he slipped off the shirt, so quickly and effortlessly it was as if he were glad to be rid of it.

While Kitty had easily and flippantly proclaimed Warren's good looks, she hadn't mentioned anything about the nature of his mutation, and Callie had to assume that her friend hadn't known how magnificent it really was. There was something simultaneously powerful and poignant in what Callie saw; the young man, one moment seeming disheartened and bleak, suddenly casting off his shroud and exposing the wings of an angel. His back instantly straightened and his chin lifted up a little bit as he stretched them out just a little bit more.

"Not much to see here, really," he said, and she looked surprised, and then wondered if he was making a joke. She couldn't tell from the still unreadable expression on his face, but decided to assume that he was.

"I think they're beautiful," she said softly, and then when his icy blue eyes met hers, she suddenly realized what she had said. Panic struck, and her mouth dropped open. Would that be equated with calling him attractive, something too forward for her to do ever, and would he see her as a freak, or a silly teenage girl, from now until the end of time? A few deep breaths later, she was able to meet his eyes, and looked back at him steadily, waiting for his response, if any.

"Thank you," Warren said, his voice sounding a little surprised, but amused at the same time. "No one has said that," he added, his frankness ringing out in his tone.

"No one can, if you keep them covered up all the time," Callie replied, matter-of-fact, almost taken aback by her inability to keep her mouth shut when it came to talking to him. From the look in his face, if Warren were anyone other than himself, reserved and contained, he would have laughed. He shifted from one foot to another, his height and delicate frame making him look birdlike. He didn't speak, so Callie slipped off her perch on the couch and got to her feet, gathering her books in her arms. She stepped out from behind the couch and walked towards the door, pausing when she came to stand beside him.

"I think I had better get back to my room," she said, looking him in the eye despite the temptation to stare at the floor. He stared back at her, unspeaking. "Good night," she stated, with finality, and as she swung the door open, she heard his voice speak softly in reply.

"Sweet dreams."


	7. A Conversation

Chapter 7: A Conversation

The computer lab was emptier than usual for a Wednesday afternoon, as many students were enjoying the warm weather by playing Frisbee on the lawn or reading in the grass. Callie wandered into the lab that afternoon and quickly accessed the internet. She scrolled through pages of news with disinterest, though she had once eagerly taken in the most mundane news stories eagerly. During her browsing, she stumbled onto a site that showed aerial photos of places throughout the world. She typed in the address of the mansion, and smiled to herself as she zoomed in as close as she could, imagining that the small specks she could see on the lawn were students that she was acquainted with. On a whim, she entered her home address, and suddenly felt a pang of regret and homesickness when the image of her house and neighborhood came up. She was staring at the computer screen, transfixed, when she was jolted out of her reverie by someone sitting down beside her.

"Hey Callie, what are you doing cooped up in the lab?" Peter asked, good-naturedly, peering over her shoulder at the screen.

Callie was startled by his sudden appearance, and motioned to close the webpage, before he spoke again.

"Oh, what's that? Is that your house?" he asked.

"Yeah," she replied, her voice uncharacteristically unsure.

"Oh geez, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be nosy," Peter exclaimed, instantly repentant when he noticed the look on her face.

"Peter, no, don't worry," she reassured him, shaking off her sadness, turning towards him and putting her hand on his arm.

"Ok, ok," he agreed, brightening again. "Hey, does this site let you look at any place in the world?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Yeah, pretty cool, right?"

Peter took over the computer and started typing in various landmarks around the country, and soon he and Callie were joking and laughing, talking about places they had visited and would like to visit some day. When their laughter died down, Peter smiled at the girl sitting beside him and pushed his chair out, getting to his feet.

"I'd better go, got to study with Kitty." He laughed when Callie made air quotes with her fingers and stuck the tip of her tongue out at him. "It's been fun, sorry to interrupt you for a little bit."

"You didn't interrupt at all. Now go 'study,'" she replied with a laugh, watching him leave. Callie turned back to the computer, shaking her head at what she was doing with her afternoon. After logging off, Callie left the lab, and wondered what to do with herself. Dinner was in a few hours and she really had been growing more and more depressed by staring at the image of her house and thinking about the family she had left behind. Stepping outside, it seemed obvious that going for a nice long walk around the campus would clear her thoughts and put her in a better mood.

The weather outside was so warm that Callie's light sweater was more than enough to protect her against the breeze that had begun to stir outside. She saw Bobby, Rogue, and Jubilee throwing a Frisbee around on the lawn, and thought about joining them, before deciding to continue her walk, following one of the gravel paths around the side of the mansion towards the gardens. She was continually impressed by the quality of life at the school, and the environment that surrounded the building perfectly matched the excellent learning environment and welcoming atmosphere that Callie had experienced so far. Her mind wandered from thoughts of the school to her meeting with Storm scheduled for the next day. Callie couldn't help but be nervous. She had seen and met such amazing people, all of whom seemed to assimilate so well despite their differences and had such potential to do great things with their mutations. She knew that she could help with her mutation, but it was so natural to do so that her healing skills seemed far from extraordinary. She wondered if she would be able to answer Storm's questions, if she would behave as poised and mature as she wanted to, and most of all, if she would be able to prove to Storm that she belonged at the mansion, and she wasn't just a waste of time.

Callie walked to the back of the garden and sat down on a bench looking out at the pond. She stretched her back and cracked her wrists, something her mother always hated. Her eyes instantly misted at the thought of her mother, who she missed painfully despite what her mother had intended to do to her. She tried to block the thoughts out, and instead the images of Sara and Josh's sweet, young faces appeared in her mind. She could almost hear their small voices asking why she had left, if it was because she didn't love them anymore, and if she would be coming back soon. She told herself to think of something else, her ethics homework, what would be served at dinner, the meeting with Storm, anything but her family, because she couldn't handle missing them and wondering if they understood why she had left. A sob escaped her tightly closed lips and she clapped one of her hands over her mouth, her shoulders hunching as she tried to keep another cry from escaping. Tears slipped out of her eyes before she could stop them, and finally she allowed her body to shake with her sobs, and she didn't even bother to wipe the tears away, but allowed them to flow over her cheeks and hands. Maybe she needed this cry, she thought, as she realized she had pushed her family out of her mind to avoid feeling anything resembling the emotions she now felt.

Suddenly, the sound of someone stirring caused her to stop and look up, instantly wiping her face, aware of the mascara that came off on her fingers and was inevitably collecting beneath her eyes as a result of her unplanned onslaught of tears. She realized that someone had been sitting only a few feet away from her bench, leaning against a tree facing the pond. Blinking to clear the tears from her eyes, she realized that the person was Warren. And Callie had utterly no idea what to do. His eyes met hers, and even at the distance, she felt as if with one glance, he was able to look into her, rather than at her. She sniffed and ran her fingers underneath her eyes again, and then rubbed her wet hands against her jeans. She couldn't help but stare at him, and the way in which the sun fell through the trees and cast shadows on him, causing him to be simultaneously hidden and illuminated. What was there to say? Sorry for crying my heart out and disturbing your meditation? Even if they were true, no words that Callie found seemed appropriate for the situation at hand.

Warren saved Callie from the burden of making conversation by rising to his feet. She thought that maybe he would walk away and pretend that nothing had ever happened, but instead he walked towards her, stopping in front of the bench. "Could I sit down?" he asked, his voice clear and polite.

"Of course," she replied, perfectly decorously.

Callie was worried that he would start the unavoidable conversation with a conventional "What's up?" which somehow seemed strikingly inappropriate considering what he had just heard and seen. Instead, they sat in silence for a few moments, until he turned to look at her, studying her face.

"I never even asked you what your mutation was," he said, but his voice echoed with the compassion that shown wordlessly in his eyes.

"Healing. I can heal people by touching them," she said softly, looking up at him for a moment, and then dropping her eyes to stare at her tightly clasped hands.

"How did you discover you could do that?"

Callie instantly imagined Warren discovering the wings growing out of his back, and realized with a jolt how painful that must have been for him, physically and mentally. "I can't even pinpoint the exact moment. I realized when I was younger that kissing my sister and brother when they were hurt actually made their hurts go away. As I grew up, I was able to focus it more, I guess," she explained, realizing after she stopped talking that explaining her mutation had broken down the wall that stood between them and took her mind off of her embarrassing discovery.

Warren nodded. "So, I can assume that you aren't upset because someone you know is sick or hurt?" Callie looked at him in surprise, and realized by the small smile on his face that he was joking as best as he knew how. That realization made her grin, and she nodded, almost laughing, shaking her head at the simple way in which he seemed to do things.

"No, it isn't that. I guess- the thing is that I miss my family," she admitted. "It sounds pretty trivial when I say it out loud," she observed, as an afterthought.

"Not at all," Warren disagreed. "The mansion can be a lonely place."

Callie nodded in reply. "Everyone's been great, you know, but I can't help but think of them." Her voice trailed off and rose in pitch, and she thought that she might start crying again.

"Did you travel far to get here?" he asked, and she noticed that he was asking her enough questions to keep her talking, but he ever so carefully avoided getting too personal.

"No, I'm from the northeast, so it's not like I'm in an entirely new world. What about you?"

"I lived on the west coast for my entire life, but it really isn't that different. I've hardly been here longer than you. Just a few months. The days all run together after a while."

"Are you studying anything? You seem a bit older than the other students here," she continued, feeling comfortable enough to ask him about himself.

"I don't know what I'm doing," Warren stated, and left it at that, for now. "I don't have much of a family to go back to," he said, looking at the ground and lowering his voice.

Callie was quiet, and the faces of her brother, sister, and mother shone so vividly in her memory it was as if they were right in front of her. "My brother and sister loved my mutation. And I loved helping them," she said, and Warren looked up at her, genuinely interested in what she was saying. "But my mom- it was like I disgraced her by being different. I couldn't go to school anymore because my school nurse wanted me to be tested for a mutation I clearly had. My mother wouldn't hear of it. She loved me though, I'm old enough to know that she only wanted what was best for me, but that doesn't make the fact that she didn't accept me for who I was any easier to handle. I wonder if they're ok, if Sara and Josh understand, if my mom is worried, what she told them to explain where I've gone." She seemed to be unable to stop talking, and the words kept flowing as her face took on a stricken expression. "What if they don't understand? I can't stand the idea of them growing up hating me, of thinking I didn't love them, because I do, so much," she said, tears falling unbidden, once again. Warren leaned close to her, startling her, and wiped away her tears gently with his fingers. He pulled back, as if he realized how close he had been to her.

"Why did you leave?"

"I got the letter from the school in the mail. Storm doesn't even know how it reached me. I don't know if I would have had the strength to come on my own, but my mother told me the day I received the letter that she planned to take me to receive the Cure the next day." Callie was familiar with mutant affairs enough so that she realized Warren's connection to the Cure, but she couldn't not mention it. She hadn't told anyone at the school that she was going to be forced to be Cured, and she thought that if anyone would understand what she had felt, Warren would. She watched his face change, his eyes widening, and his lips curving down as she mentioned the Cure. Not knowing if she should ask him anything, she continued, saying, "It was the only time in my life that my mom acknowledged me as a mutant. First, an abomination, and then something that could be fixed or cured." She stopped talking, but he did not respond, it was as if he couldn't. It seemed to Callie like he was struggling to keep his emotions in check, and she wondered if she should tell him that she knew who he was and who his father was. Would that change anything between them, would it have any effect on the here and the now? She stayed silent for a few more moments, watching how his emotions flickered subtly over his face but still told her so much about him that she never would have known.

"I'm sorry," she offered, finally, her voice soft and repentant. "I didn't mean to-"

He cut her off, raising his hand in a dismissive wave. "No, you have nothing to be sorry for. I did tell you that I don't have much of a family to go back to. Enough said."

Callie was disappointed that the subject was closed, as she found herself wanting more and more to know Warren's story, to hear him speaking about something real and true about himself, instead of their polite conversation and his insightful questions about her. She wanted to know about him, but she was empathetic enough to realize that she opened up to Warren about her true pain in a chance moment of vulnerability, while Warren was closed. Not as much as before, perhaps, but closed he was. They sat there, side by side, both bearing the knowledge that their parents had wanted to change the most integral and unique aspect of their beings. And that, if nothing else, brought them together.


End file.
